


Witches are. Witches do.

by solrosan



Series: Witches are. Witches do. [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Witches, M/M, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solrosan/pseuds/solrosan
Summary: Kingsman was founded during the 17th century witch-hunts by a group of witches to protect their craft and to make sure their work continued. Four hundred years later, Kingsman still exists, but as medicine and science progressed the roles that the witches once filled have been taken over by doctors and scientists. Recruitment is slow, global warming messes with century old practises and you can buy everything synthetic these days... it can be hard to keep up moral.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin
Series: Witches are. Witches do. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553854
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	Witches are. Witches do.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InsaneRedDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneRedDragon/gifts), [elletromil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/gifts).



> So I made [this moodboard](https://agentsandbutterflies.tumblr.com/post/187120731413/merlahad-witches-au). Then I got overinvested in the idea of Kingsman being an organisation of witches rather than secret agents and started to write short ficlets about it and sharing them with friends. (Thank you InsaneRedDragon and elletromil for letting me bombard you with this verse!) Now, I feel like sharing it with more people, because I have become obsessed. 
> 
> Small meta notes before you start:  
> 1) If the people at Kingsman were witches, Merlin (not Arthur) would obviously be the head of the organisation  
> 2) I have no idea what I'm talking about witches-wise. I've tried to keep things in line, but there is a pretty fair chance I've mixed schools here  
> 3) This will turn into a series of small slice-of-life, so just bear with me for a bit

“Don’t you have any professional pride?” Merlin asks in tired disgust when he walks into the breakroom, seeing Harry plopping a store bought tea bag in a mug of steaming water.

“It’s called ‘break’ for a reason,” says Harry. “Just because _you_ spend all your time behind a desk instead of a cauldron these days doesn’t mean everyone else feels the need to turn every cup of tea into a bloody spirit journey. Not to mention, I like this brand.”

Merlin sighs and takes out a mug for himself and a tea strainer. He opens the cupboard with the tea leaves and picks his favourite. Perhaps there’s a bit of jealousy in his annoyance over Harry’s tea habits, this -- making tea -- is the closest he comes to their core business these days. And it’s not like he’s doing anything but pouring hot water on other people’s work. Being Merlin really comes with a long list of sacrifices and the more he sits with the financial records and Skype meetings with druids, shamans, sorcerers and witches all over the world the more of Harry’s doubts about their place in this time creeps in under his skin.

“I’m going to do a new attempt at the hearg tonight, if you want to come,” Harry says, as if he feels Merlin’s frustration -- and he probably does, Harry is disturbingly perceptive when he wants to be. 

“Thanks,” says Merlin with a smile, dumping his used tea leafs in the compost under the sink, “but I have a conference call tonight.”

“With who?” 

“Nosekeni and Masahito.”

“It’s the first day of the new moon,” says Harry as if Merlin isn’t well aware, “I’m sure they have better things to do as well.”

“And they, like I, have good people who can do it for them.”

Harry smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness there. “Maybe next moon,” he says.

Merlin nods, they have been saying that for half a year now. “Dress better this time, will you?”

“Don’t worry, according to the weather app there won’t rain tonight.”

“Sometimes, honestly…”

“You know it’s more accurate than I ever was.”

“True, but still.”

Harry smiles again, mischievously this time. He very demonstratively lifts his tea bag and drops it in the bin. He then gives Merlin a quick peck on the cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

“I won’t,” says Merlin, watching as Harry leaves, feeling quite sure that Harry will be the one coming home first tonight again.

* * *

Harry comes back just before sunrise. Merlin’s shoes stand neatly on the shoe stand and everything is quiet, which means Merlin is home and most likely asleep. Good. Harry pulls off his wellies and makes sure to not drag any of the mud into the house. 

He walks to the kitchen, determined to make them both breakfast before going to bed. Breakfast is the only meal they manage to eat together almost every day, so breakfast is special. He pulls out some eggs, bell peppers and leek as the pan heats up.

He mutters words that have almost lost their meaning to him as he chops the peppers and the leek, but he takes an extra moment before breaking the eggs in the bowl. Even though these particular eggs would never have been chickens no matter how long their mothers would have sat on them, they are still Animalia. Some of the other witches don’t understand the difference he makes between living and living -- sometimes he doesn’t either -- but it has always been there. 

Soon, the omelette sizzles in the pan. Harry moves on to arrange the tea. Since it’s the morning after the new moon cycle has begun he puts in elderflower. The words fall from his lips, not even loud enough to be heard over the kettle. 

When the tea’s stewing in its pot, Harry pulls the omelette off the burner and walks upstairs. He opens the door to the bedroom; Merlin’s softly snoring, a hand on Harry’s side of the bed as if he has been searching for him in the night. Harry shakes his shoulder lightly to wake him. 

“Breakfast’s ready,” he murmurs as Merlin tries to wave him off as an annoying insect. “I’m popping some toast in, so be down in three, alright?”

Merlin makes an incoherent noise and pulls the covers over his head. Harry rolls his eyes and goes back downstairs. He pops in the toast and sets the table. He’s just about to pour the tea when Merlin comes down, having pulled on his once-white-sweats only.

Merlin sits down and holds up his mug to get the tea. “How did it go?”

“Hm. So so.” Harry makes sure they both have omelettes and toasts before sitting down as well. “I think the crops will be alright, but I said the same last year.”

“Mm,” says Merlin. “Masahito’s worried about the seaweed. They can’t seem to turn it around.”

Harry nods. They don’t have to get into how much harder their work has become due to the rapid climate changes over breakfast. Instead they butter their toast and eat their omelette, yawning for two different reasons, and talk about The Great British Bake Off.


End file.
